Deceive Not My Heart

by Shirlee Busbee

  Ashley looked at him with dislike. "None of your business, brat!" And glancing at Leonie, he sneered, "You dare to call me an impostor? What about you, my dear? Presenting one's husband with a bastard isn't the most honorable thing to do! You slut! You and your grandfather must have danced with glee when I stumbled into the trap meant for Morgan!"

  Justin had moved nearer his mother with every word Ashley spoke, and his big eyes wide and frightened, he clutched at Leonie's skirts. "Go away!" he said fiercely. "You are a bad man!"

  Blinded by rage, her breath coming in angry gasps and yet conscious of the child clinging to her gown, Leonie snarled softly, "Ashley, I will ask you only once to leave here. And I will tell you only once to leave your filthy tongue off my son!"

  "You'll not tell me a damn thing! Not with what I know about you!" Ashley retorted. "I'll keep my mouth shut about the little bastard... provided you come to France with me."

  "Never!" she uttered furiously. "And get out of my house before I do you violence!"

  His lips curving in a sneer, Ashley walked up to the pair of them. Defiantly Leonie and Justin faced him. Ashley looked them up and down, an unpleasant expression on his face. "Who is his father?" he demanded suddenly. And when Leonie glared at him contemptuously and remained rebelliously mute, he was enraged. Not only was the bitch being infuriatingly stubborn about falling in with his plans, but she and that damned old grandfather of hers had tricked him! Furious with the entire situation, he vented his spleen the only way he knew how—with all his strength behind it, he slapped Leonie across the cheek. "Whore!" he thundered.

  His action was a mistake, both Leonie and Justin reacting instantly. Justin's teeth bit deeply into Ashley's thigh, just as Leonie's fingers clawed down the side of Ashley's face. With a howl of rage and pain, Ashley danced away from the pair of them, shaking off Justin as he did so. But Ashley's greatest mistake had been thinking that Morgan had ridden away....

  It had been Dominic that Ashley had seen leaving, and Morgan, returning to the house from the stables a few minutes after Justin, had come in search of Leonie. He had just opened the door when Ashley had demanded to know of Justin's parentage, and he was already in motion, already springing across the room when Ashley's hand connected with Leonie's cheek. Ashley didn't even have a second for recovery, because in the next instant, he felt a powerful hand whip him around and had a startling brief look at Morgan's dangerous features, before Morgan's fist smashed into his face.

  The force of the blow spun Ashley around, knocking him to the floor. For a moment he lay there groaning, shaking his head trying to clear it. Then he turned over on his back and touched the spot where Morgan's fist had connected so effectively. Wiping away the trickle of blood that oozed from the broken skin, he looked up at Morgan's cool, deadly visage.

  Everything had happened so swiftly that Leonie had barely time to comprehend Morgan's presence before he said quietly, "Leonie, you and Justin had better leave. I have a few items to discuss with my cousin."

  Leonie wasted not a minute, sweeping Justin with her as she ran out of the room in search of Robert or Dominic.

  Morgan's eyes never left Ashley lying supine on the floor, and Leonie and Justin had hardly disappeared before he was across the room, next to Ashley. Kneeling in one lithe movement beside his cousin, he had the knife drawn from its hiding place in his riding boot and held against Ashley's throat before Ashley realized what he was about.

  A dangerous glitter in the blue eyes, Morgan drawled softly, "Don't move, Ash. Don't even breathe heavily."

  Ashley laid very still, his eyes wary as he stared up into Morgan's face. But Ashley knew Morgan well, and despite everything Ashley was no coward; evenly he said, "You're not going to kill me. At least not in cold blood, cuz. So shall we discuss this like gentlemen?"

  Morgan smiled mirthlessly, relaxing back on his haunches. "You tempt me, Ash, you really do," he murmured. Idly he ran the knife down Ashley's throat, leaving a thin, bright line of blood behind the blade. Looking into his cousin's eyes, Morgan said, "Did you know I spent a few years with the Comanches? No? Well, I did, Ash, and they taught me many things to do with a knife. I could skin you whole and still leave you alive, if I wished. But I won't... not because you think you know me so well, but because I would dislike your blood staining the floor in what will be my study."

  Ashley held his breath, fear entering the blue eyes for the first time. Morgan saw it and smiled. Pressing the knife a little harder, he remarked, "I should slit your throat on principle. If you touch Leonie again, I will, I promise you, Ash."

  There was such deadly assurance in the quiet tones that Ashley shivered. Morgan watched him narrowly for a long moment and then rising to his feet with easy grace, he commanded, "Get up!"

  Hastily, although he kept an eye on the knife, Ashley did so. Straightening his clothes with short, jerky movements he snapped, "This doesn't change anything—she's still my wife!"

  "Yes, that's so." Morgan agreed. "But you're going to allow the annulment to go through without any further problems. You're also going to leave here now and go back to New Orleans." Casually putting the knife back into his boot, he lit a cheroot, and over the blue smoke that drifted from its glowing tip, he regarded his cousin. "You're not a fool, Ash," Morgan said calmly, "and so you're going to arrange passage on the first ship leaving from New Orleans." His voice hardening, he added, "I don't care where it's going, you will be on it. Name any bank in England and I'll arrange for a sizable sum to be deposited there in your name. Have I made myself clear?"

  "And if I don't?" Ashley inquired.

  "Then I'll kill you."

  Ashley blanched, and his fists clenching impotently, he glared at Morgan. He didn't say a word, though. His face contorted by rage, he spun on his heels and stalked out of the room, brushing furiously past Robert and Leonie, who were just opening the door.

  Robert's face was full of astonishment as he stared after Ashley's departing figure and he said, "Wasn't that...? What was he doing here?" An arrested look springing to his eyes, he muttered under his breath, "So that's what happened!"

  Resignedly, Morgan said, "Yes, Rob, that's what happened. Now kindly come in and shut the door."

  Morgan hadn't wanted Robert to know, but there was no help for it and he didn't fear that Robert would be any more loose-tongued than Dominic. When Dominic returned, the entire incident had been discussed, although Morgan had waited until he was alone with his brothers to explain precisely what inducements he had used to make Ashley agree to his demands. And while he felt certain that Dominic, Robert, and himself would provide adequate protection for Leonie and Justin, he wanted something more. He had hesitated about informing the servants of Ashley's presence, but taking no chances and wanting no repeat of today's dangerous intrusion, he called them all together and carefully explained that for the next several days that they should be on their guard against an impostor... an impostor who might attempt to harm Leonie and Justin. He gave as Ashley's motive revenge against himself.

  Dealing with Justin was a delicate task. Morgan didn't want to frighten the child, yet Justin needed to be prepared in case he came face to face with Ashley again. Morgan and Leonie had as gently as possible warned Justin to have nothing to do with the "bad man" who had struck maman this morning.

  In a way, Morgan was satisfied with the day's work. He had taken precautions to protect his family, and he and Ashley had laid their cards on the table. Hopefully Ashley was wise enough to know when he was beaten. Ashley was greedy, but he disliked risking his precious skin, and the threat of death was a definite incentive to leave New Orleans. Ashley had always beaten a hasty retreat once his perfidies had been discovered, and Morgan hoped he would act no differently this time.

  Ashley did book passage back to France the next morning, making arrangements to sail on a ship that was leaving at the end of the week. As Morgan had said, he wasn't a fool, and Morgan's attitude had been daunting to say the least, even to someone like Ashley.r />
  * * *

  Ashley brooded most of that day in his room, trying desperately to think of a way to turn the tables on Morgan. The thought of being bested one more time by his cousin and of returning to France empty-handed was distasteful. Even the idea of the money Morgan would give him didn't cheer his black spirits, especially when compared to what could be his if he could have gotten Leonie to come to France with him. Bitch! If he could only get her alone... she was too smart, too quick to be caught by his wiles, he conceded peevishly. But what if he had some way of forcing her?

  He suddenly sat up in his chair. The child! Of course, why hadn't he considered that sooner? The child would bring her running, assure her complete compliance with whatever he planned. Grinning, he poured himself a generous whiskey. His passage was already arranged.

  The addition of the boy would make little difference. A note to be delivered to his mother, after the ship had sailed, would explain just what was expected of her, if she wanted to see her bastard again.

  The timing would have to be precise, he decided. There was no use snatching the bratling until the very last moment, no use giving Morgan time to find them. His dear cousin would never think of coming directly to the docks, never think that he would take the child to France with him.

  The ship was due to sail in three days, on Thursday with the evening tide. So the kidnapping had to be done Thursday afternoon, leaving just enough time to arrive back in New Orleans.

  * * *

  Tuesday found Ashley surveying the activities at Saint-Andre from a place of concealment in the encroaching wilderness that surrounded the house. He was bored most of the time; only one thing interested him, Justin. He had planned well though, bringing food, water and bedding with him, which allowed him to remain hidden and yet able to keep an eye on everyone at all times. By Thursday morning he was poised and ready to strike.

  He had observed that Justin usually spent the afternoons playing in a small clearing a short distance away from the house, and Ashley had positioned himself in the underbrush, not far from that spot. His horse was tethered nearby in readiness for a swift escape and as the noonday sun rose higher in the sky, and still no sign of Justin, Ashley moved restlessly in his hiding place.

  Once again he reviewed his plan, confident it had no flaws. He didn't like the fact that one of the Slade brothers, as well as a young black woman, had been with Justin the past two days, but Ashley dismissed them. The servant would prove no obstacle—they never did—and as for one of the Slades, a blow to the head, a lunge for the child, and away he would be. Then onto France and a fortune! Who knows, he thought, I might even let the bitch and her whelp live, provided, they give me no trouble. And if they did... well, he wouldn't mind being a wealthy widower.

  The sound of Justin's happy laughter broke into his musings and like a snake preparing to strike he froze, his eyes riveted on the scampering figure not ten feet away. The lone scampering figure...

  Justin had awakened early from his nap, and never stopping to think of letting anyone know he was up and around, he had dragged on his clothes and rushed outside eager to play in the warm sun. Normally a servant watched over him while he slept, but she had just slipped away for a moment to get a drink of water, never suspecting that Justin would wake during the short time she was gone.

  Ashley glanced around. Good. There was no one else in sight. He knew for a fact that at least two of the Slade brothers were gone from the plantation—he'd seen one of them leaving, obviously on his way to do some hunting. And not half an hour ago, to his intense satisfaction, he'd watched Morgan ride away toward the river, which left only one Slade, the women, and the servants at the house. His wolfish grin widened and he slowly rose to his feet, lightly dusting away the twigs and moss that clung to his breeches.

  Infused with a brazen confidence, he mounted his horse and rode boldly into the clearing where Justin was busily poking sticks into an abandoned rabbit burrow that had caught his attention. Hearing the rider approaching through the woods, Justin stood up and looked in that direction. And for the first few seconds he made the mistake of thinking it was Morgan who sat astride the big, black gelding.

  But only for seconds, and then as he remembered the cruel smile, his stick went flying and he turned to run. "The bad man!" he cried, his legs moving as fast as they could.

  The servant, Julie, appeared just then from around the corner of the house. She didn't see Ashley, her eyes fixed with relief on Justin. Scolding softly under her breath she ran quickly towards him, intending to take him back into the house.

  Ashley spurred his horse into motion, intent upon his quarry. He caught Justin before the child had run more than a few feet, his powerful arm swooping down and effortlessly plucking up the little figure. Roughly flinging his squirming, kicking prey across the front of the saddle he wheeled the horse around and as they raced past the openmouthed, stunned servant, Ashley deliberately lashed out with his foot, his heel connecting solidly with the woman's head. She sank to the ground with a small whimper. Horse, rider, and captive plunged into the forest out of sight.

  Julie was only stunned, and after a second, she shook her head and with uneven, jerky movements lurched to her feet. Her dark eyes wide and frightened, she stumbled towards the house screaming loudly.

  People came running from several directions around the house and by the time Leonie and Robert came flying down the stairs, there was a small, agitated crowed gathered around the sobbing girl. Her face full of confusion, Julie said bewilderedly, "It was the bad Master! He kicked me and then steal our little boy."

  Robert stiffened and Leonie's face went white, her heart seemed to stop beating within her breast. Mon Dieu! Julie's words could only mean one thing—Ashley has kidnapped Justin!

  Galvanized into action, Leonie whirled around to one of the stable hands and ordered, "Get me a horse!" And then looking at Saul, she said, "Go find Morgan—he's at the docks. Tell him Ashley has taken Justin and that I have gone after them!"

  Glancing back at the weeping Julie, she said in a voice that only shook slightly, "Julie, tell me again what happened. What direction did this man take Justin?"

  Between frightened gulps, Julie repeated her tale, ending with, "And then he ride away through the woods to the swamp."

  Against Robert's protestations, Leonie had just swung up onto the back of a sleek, gray mare when Morgan, on Tempete, came thundering to a halt in front of her. Taking in the air of tragedy that hung over the group, and Leonie's tense, frightened expression, he demanded, "What's happened? Saul met me on my way back to the house with some garbled tale of a madman! Was it Ashley?"

  The horse dancing under her light weight, Leonie cried out, "He's taken Justin!"

  A terrible shaft of fear pierced his heart, but ignoring the horror that snaked through his big body, his face grim and deadly, Morgan snarled, "Which direction did he go?"

  "Julie says towards the swamps."

  Silently cursing for not realizing just how tenacious Ashley was, Morgan wheeled Tempete around and commanded Robert tightly, "Have Dominic found as soon as possible! He went squirrel hunting near Black Bayou. The two of you come after me—you'll be able to follow the trail I'll leave for you."

  "I'm going with you!" Leonie stated fiercely, her face set and determined.

  He threw her a harassed glance, but he didn't dare waste the time arguing with her. "Very well," he said curtly and dug his heels into Tempete's silken hide. With a snort the blood-bay stallion bounded forward, Leonie's mare hot behind him.

  They found the trail with little effort, the mad dash of Ashley's horse through the tangled forest evident from the snapped and broken limbs and the wild disturbance of the matted forest floor. There were few words between Leonie and Morgan as they rode swiftly deeper into the tropical undergrowth, each one too busy struggling against their own particular demons.

  Numb disbelief had fallen over Leonie, her brain unwilling to let the terror that lurked just under the surface of her
thoughts come exploding through. She knew Ashley had her son, knew they must find him soon, but beyond that there was nothing but a blessed, emotionless void.

  Leonie had a mother's fear for her child's survival, but Morgan had to face not only the horror of what Ashley might do to a child he had come to love as his own, but the terrible memory of Phillippe's death. It was his most terrifying nightmare come true, an icy, dreadful feeling of déjà vu riding with him every step of the way. Every twist, every curve in the winding, zigzagging trail brought back that awful memory of his desperate, futile chase after Phillippe, and somewhere along this frightening ride Justin and Phillippe merged into one being.

  The forest seemed to close in on them, the tangled, verdant growth nearly suffocating with its presence. As they rode deeper into the wilderness, the forest gradually gave way to a swampy, marshy area. Creepers and vines hung snakelike through the branches of the cypress and tupelo trees and ferns and palmettos created a smothering corridor through which they traveled. The farther they rode, the more swamplike the area became, and finally, Morgan pulled up his horse and glanced around with a frown.

  "Ashley must be lost," he said flatly. "The trail is too erratic."

  Her face damp with perspiration, her green eyes huge with apprehension, Leonie asked, "Will we catch him?"

  Morgan smiled mirthlessly. "Oh, yes, we'll catch him! If he keeps traveling in this direction, he's going to end up at the edge of the big swamp and there's no way he's going to get his horse through that." He reached up and bent a small branch. Tying a strip of material torn from his once elegant cravat around the branch, he muttered, "That should keep Robert and Dominic on our trail."

  He glanced back at Leonie, taking in the now ripped and stained green gown that she wore, noting her rigid control. Turning his head to stare at the luxuriant jungle that greeted his gaze, he hesitated.